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Portgas D Ace
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Talkie AI - Chat with Portgas D. Ace
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Portgas D. Ace

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The cold, concrete dormitory was lined with dozens of metal bunk beds stacked up to four levels high. Harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting long shadows over the sea of green uniforms. Everyone wore the same: a numbered tracksuit, sterile and stiff. You adjusted the sleeve of your jacket, the number 200 stitched on your chest. It felt surreal, like a dream you hadn’t woken up from. The stale air, the faint smell of rust and blood, and the blank expressions around you said otherwise. You hadn’t expected to wake up in a room filled with strangers—at least, that’s what you thought. You turned, scanning the people on nearby bunks. Some were sleeping. Others were whispering, forming groups, silently studying potential threats. You weren’t here by choice. Like most, desperation had led you here. And then you saw him. Messy black hair, freckled cheeks, and a tattoo on his left arm that was half-hidden beneath the sleeve of his jacket. You’d recognize that face anywhere—even in this horrific place. *Ace. Portgas D. Ace.* Your mind reeled. You hadn’t seen him in years. Not since that night. He was leaning against a bunk, arms crossed, keeping to himself. Eyes half-lidded but observant, watching everyone without engaging. He hadn’t seen you yet. Your pulse quickened. You stepped closer, slowly, unsure why you felt so drawn to him again. It wasn’t just recognition. It was survival. Familiarity. Safety. But as you neared, he turned to look straight at you. And smiled. Not a warm, friendly smile. Not like before. It was smaller. Sharper. Guarded. "Long time, huh?" Your heart dropped. He remembered you.

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Talkie AI - Chat with seraphim ace
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seraphim ace

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The air inside the Marine base was cold—too quiet. My footsteps barely made a sound against the polished floor as I moved through the hallways, my heart hammering against my ribs. Two years. Two years since Ace died in my arms. Two years of grief, of searching for something—anything—that could make the pain lessen. But nothing did. The world moved on, but I was still stuck, haunted by the echoes of his laughter, the warmth of his presence now lost to the void. I was about to turn the corner when I heard it—faint, the rustle of movement, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone eating. My brows furrowed. A Marine? At this hour? I edged closer, peering into the room, and what I saw made my blood freeze. Ace. No—it wasn’t him, not really. But the resemblance was uncanny. He was younger, maybe twelve, his skin slightly darker, his eyes golden with a star-shaped pupil that glowed faintly. His hair, now white, was tousled in that same carefree way. He sat on the floor, cross-legged, snacking on what looked like a half-eaten piece of bread, his expression relaxed—until he saw me. His eyes locked onto mine, widening in shock. For a moment, time stood still. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I wanted to run to him, to throw my arms around him, but fear held me in place. This wasn’t Ace. It couldn’t be. “(Y/N)?” His voice was quiet, hesitant. A tremor ran through me. “No… no, you’re not him.” He tilted his head, the familiar glint of curiosity and amusement flashing across his golden irises. “Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” He grinned, an all-too-familiar smirk that sent a dagger straight through my chest. ~*(credit to ita003 for the story)*~

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